New Wars
by RainbowShift
Summary: Tensions in Runeterra have never been so high. When a beloved character is found dead on the border between Shurima and Noxus, every Champion is sucked into a conflict which will change the shape of their lives. They will need to chose between fighting for their friends, their family or themselves.
1. Operation Piltover

"We're going to get sucked into this war," she bluntly stated without so much as a greeting.

"We are protected."

"By what? By what army? What people do you even have to protect?"

"The army will come soon enough. I have only just regained control over these people, I will not subject them to conscription and slavery once more. In the meantime, I have my Soldiers."

"They are not real warriors. You have no idea the sort of strain controlling a whole army will have on you."

"If we are invaded, the forces will not be able to get to the city. The desert is a perilous place for just one man. Imagine the type of creatures which would hunt if they sensed invading forces."

"So you're pinning your hopes on beasts and sand men." It was not a question. "You hide yourself behind these city walls, cowering in fear and not wanting to show yourself, while also claiming that the city has risen again and it is the start of the rebirth of the Empire once more."

"That is ENOUGH Sivir," the golden hawk-like figure rose in anger at the tone he was being spoken in, "I allow you to take wealth and goods from me. I allow you to come and go as you please. I do not ask anything from you and that includes your counsel."

Nasus huffed at the routine bickering going on before him and slowly leaned his head back against the sandy coated stone walls of the Throne Room. Back in the day it would have been filled with personal friends, feudal lords, generals, community leaders, foreign diplomats and Shuriman advisors who would all be vying for the attention of the Emperor. Ever since he was reborn, the only people allowed in the room were himself and Sivir. Ever since he was reborn, this was the only room where he did not have to use his powers and could rest… If Sivir ever let him. His trance – or rather daydream – was interrupted by the uncharacteristic roar of anger which came from Azir. He huffed once more and moved away from the back wall; the golden armour on his head and shoulders clinked too much and announced his movements too loudly for his own liking.

"Sivir perhaps," the jackal began cautiously, "Your concerns are valid, however, we must turn our attention first to more pressing matters. My brother, the Shuriman people and Xerath are the ones which require the majority of our efforts. Would you not agree?"

The girl hung her head a little, silky black hair spilling over her shoulders, "There are a lot of caravans making their way to Shurima. Your people are prime targets for raider tribes and for the… creatures you pin so much of your hopes on. While the two of you sit here and worry about punishing a man for crimes he made centuries ago, I'm going to focus of fixing what is happening now."

With that she turned and made her way out of the room, her crossblade already prepared for battle swung with the rhythm of her movements.

"He is no man," Azir muttered as the doors swung shut behind his ancestor.

"You worry about her," Nasus stated.

"I already lost my family once. I cannot lose what little I have left."

"You have no power over her though, she has to decide what she wants to do with her life. We should not force her to stay here."

"I know," he shakily sighed and slumped back in his throne, keeping one clawed hand on his staff and the other slowly drawing circles around his temples. He was weak. Too weak. If somebody was to try and invade now, the Ascended being in front of Nasus would either be killed by the invaders or from the task of defending his people and the toll his magic would take on him.

"If the girl is right..." Nasus began

"Noxus would not be so foolish," Azir's voice quivered. Even he did not believe what he was saying.

* * *

Heavy footsteps splattered against the white marble footpath which led up to the Yordle Academy of Science and Progress. The dull sky made the entire city look old and mud-trodden, even with the shining futuristic buildings and the light whirring of machinery and the pale blue lights illuminating the streets.

The group of figures huddled against the rain just a stone's throw away from the Academy, their voices lowered to a whisper.

"So we all understand?" The smallest and slightest of the figures enquired. The sternness of the voice implied that any who did not understand would be promptly executed.

"In and out. Grab as much as possible," snarled one.

"Once the alarms go off, we leave," stated one of the fatter figures.

"I'm shakin' in my boots," another one chuckled loudly before being sharply elbowed in the ribs by one of his co-conspirators.

The figure which spoke first looked hard at the snarling one, "Remember what you are being payed for. If a fight breaks out, you die first."

With that last word the group set off again. Upon getting closer to the Academy, one of the turrets started whirring to life but was quickly silenced by a cleaver slicing through the air and lodging itself into its hextech core. At the doors to the Academy, the small figure signalled and the other four paused as the figure disappeared in a small haze of purple smoke. After a brief moment the doors to the building silently slid open and the figure reappeared before leading the others inside. They made their way into a large lobby which had walls covered in various contraptions made by the city's scientists and researchers. One of the figures stayed in the lobby, grabbing and dismantling as much as possible, while the other four split up and went either into the room labelled 'Artefacts' or into the library.

* * *

"Hey, Cait, we've got reports of some of the cameras being down in the Yordle Academy. Should I take a look?" A tall woman spun around in her chair to ask the smaller woman who was casually eating a cupcake behind her.

"I'll come with you," said Caitlyn, her eyebrows suddenly furrowing in confusion. She beckoned towards the door and the two began walking out of the Police Department, the Sheriff stopping to pick her gun from off the floor and swing it over her shoulder. At that time, the streets were characteristically empty of people, but there was still the smell of metal which clung in the air.

"What're you thinking, Cait?" Vi asked as they rounded the corner and strode onto the street which contained Heimerdinger's Academy.

"Those turrets and cameras were built by world-renowned scientists. There's no way they just went out on their own," she mused and swung her Peacemaker around and aimed it towards the Academy, "It looks normal from here though."

"D'you think it could be… her?"

"It's not flashy enough to be Jinx. Plus, she wouldn't attack the academy." The pair got closer and Caitlyn was just able to see a burly figure in the lobby through her gun's lens. "Target spotted."

"I'm going in," Vi called, already bouncing ahead two steps of her partner. She darted forwards and crashed through the glass doors, fists first, and landed gracefully at the front of the lobby as smithereens of glass fell around her like snowflakes. She then seamlessly darted forward once more, raising her gauntlet and bringing it down on the back of the neck which belonged to the cloaked figure in front of her. The person staggered forwards slightly but did nothing more. It was only at this moment did Vi realise just how huge he was. It was like she was frozen in fear. Wait, no, she was actually frozen. A chain had tethered itself to her left arm and was so tight she could not even lift her arm. She ran her eyes over the length of the chain to find it connected to a brilliant purple crystal which floated atop a staff belonging to another, much smaller, cloaked figure. The huge figure in front of her then produced an ugly butcher's knife encrusted with the blood of a previous victim. As the giant purple arm swung the knife down towards her, Vi heard two shots in quick succession. They both, of course, hit their targets. The first shot rung cleanly against the knife and it fluttered to the ground while the second shot had lodged itself into the arm of the other cloaked figure and earned a sharp wince. The pink-haired woman took this opportunity to dash forwards and bring both gauntlets crashing down on the figure who had just been shot, but, before she could bring both fists down, she was blocked by an ungraceful riot shield.

"We go now," she heard the riot shield shout. Vi readied another punch but all her fist hit was something that sounded like a glass bottle. As soon as it smashed, green smoke filled her vision and her head felt fuzzier than it did last weekend when she challenged Ezreal to a drinking game. She was powerless to prevent her head clattering to the floor in a sickening thud.

"Net going out!" She heard Caitlyn say in a muffled voice in some far off land. It probably was not important. The only important thing to Vi at that moment was the pain coursing through the veins, being pumped around to every one of her muscles by the elevated heartbeat from the fight. She could not scream. All the police officer could do was contort her face into a silent scream as her skin peeled and melted and bubbled away from the arm which was still wet from whatever was in the glass bottle.

"VI? VI!" Somebody called at the back of her mind.

"Oh my god, Vi! We need backup right now. I have one criminal I captured, my partner is down, four other criminals are on the run."

They had caught one. At least they did not all get away, was all Vi could think as her entire vision was engulfed in green flames.

* * *

"I don't like leavin Warwick," called the figure with the riot shield as the four of them darted down back alleys.

"He knew what he was getting into," said the one with a bullet in her arm who was being carried by the largest figure, "How long until we get to Zaun?"

"Depends," yelled the crab-like figure at the front of the group, "Can you leave a clone here."

The woman nodded, gritting her teeth as she cast the spell.

"Did somebody get the prototype?" The one with the riot shield called.

"Mundo!" Yelled the large one and held up collection of glowing blue orbs wrapped in a sack which had suspicious red splatters on the bottom. That was fine then, as long as they had them it did not matter if Warwick had been captured. It was what he was there for anyway.

"I came as soon as I could," Jayce came bursting into the Police Station, his hammer raised in anticipation but was instead met by the solemn face of Caitlyn as one of the leading doctors in Piltover explained Vi's condition to her.

"She has experienced great psychological trauma from what seems to be inhaling the gases from a hallucinogenic potion. The liquid has also reacted with one of her arms. I'm afraid she will be out of action for quite a while"

Caitlyn thanked the doctor in the politest way she could muster and he bowed out of the station. Jayce spread his hands out wide in a quizzical gesture.

"She's in the Piltover Institution. Ward 3," Caitlyn sighed and slumped down on her chair.

"Is she going to be alright?" Jayce prompted urgently.

"She couldn't stop screaming and she can't move her arm."

"Oh god."

"Jayce… I have one of them locked up in the basement."

The man nodded and moved towards the steps leading down to the holding cells.

"Jayce?"

He looked up again.

"I want you to kill them all."

He nodded, "Once we find out who they are and once I am done with this one. Any idea what the name of this guy you've got locked up is?"

"Not a guy. It's the head-hunter… It's Warwick."

Jayce sighed deeply and adjusted the grip on his hammer. "You think it's Zaun?"

"I know it's Zaun."

 **A/N: So here marks the start of my first League fic. Now I often write stories which are slow starters or ones which may not make sense at first but I encourage you to stick with me here. This is a story which needs a lot of build up for the main bulk to make sense.**


	2. Operation Shadow Isles

The taste of satisfaction from the yearly sacrifice still lingered as her kin crawled around her half-naked body. She gave into the desire and let the final drop of Vilemaw's venom seep into her veins and arteries, writhing in pleasure as soon as it started to pump its way through the spider-like woman. Her back arched as the pleasure flowed throughout her body. It had been too long. Immortal youth had never tasted so good.

"I sense new souls." The emerald chain warden's voice sung in the rotting air and was almost as sharp as his spectral scythe.

"My yearly sacrifice to the Spider God has been completed. Their souls are his to take," Elise coolly stated, rising to a sitting position on a makeshift throne of rotting corpses and webbing.

"Your God," Thresh corrected absent-mindedly as he drifted past her and progressed deeper into the spider's lair.

"Wait, Thresh! I am not just here for the sacrifice this year and I no longer just represent Vilemaw's kin," she stood now, her slender legs making her human form looking almost fragile, and small spiders scurried around her feet in panic.

"Speak carefully for we do not rule here," the emerald fire licked the air as Thresh opened his jaw to speak.

"I come as a representative of a very powerful Noxian organisation who seek favour with the commanding powers in the Shadow Isles. While you may not think so, that includes you." Her voice was careful and she spoke in the exact way she had been commanded. It was natural, that since Elise spent most of her time residing in Noxus that she would be the first to be persuaded and the one to bridge the gap between the two nations.

"You shall be wanting to speak with the others also?"

"Could you gather them?"

"We are free souls, we come and go as we please. I do not promise anything other than an eternity of torture. But I will find those with which you wish to speak", Thresh whispered as he drifted away. The screams of anguish coming from his lantern faded away with the darkness as he moved away from the lair. Elise huffed in slight annoyance. She knew that there was a particular Wraith that was the key to the plan but who was also the hardest to win over… The overarching commander of the Shadow Isles himself: Mordekaiser.

* * *

Elise had waited longer than she would have liked and had started to wrap her Noxian cloak around her red and black body when she heard the moaning of souls drifting her way once more. The path leading to the lair had a slick, oily quality, making it treacherous underfoot. The crooked trees to either side were wretched, blackened husks that wept yellowed sap from where it looked like some panicked animal had clawed them ragged. Soft light shimmered between the trees, dancing like the corpse candles that flickered over marshland and drew unwary souls to their doom. The branches were hung with ragged cobwebs and in that moment Elise felt sorry for the ones that actually had to live on that damned place. But none of this seemed to matter to the figures which came through the mist, looming over the insects which dotted the floor. At the head of the group was none other than the Shadow of War. Elise had seen the horseman patrolling the coast at a few points in her life but had never come face to face with the murderous monstrosity. She knew only of his power and influence over many of the spirits on the Isles. Behind him came Thresh who was flanking the most terrifying being ever to walk Runeterra: Mordekaiser. With ever slow step came the crash of metal on metal. Elise became very aware of how small and alive she was. Liches and spectres now danced around the lair, forcing her spiders to retreat into the impenetrable darkness of their God's lair. She had met the Iron Lord once before on her third visit to the Isles but back then he had been almost bored and could not care less about the natures of her visits. The final power of the Isles, the Deathsinger, came almost as quickly as the breeze. He was the only one Elise had never seen patrolling the Shadow Isles and was shocked at how ghastly he looked. Even beside the other three monstrosities, this one had what could only be described as a melted human face with cheeks and eyes sunk so far into the face they had disappeared.

The Pale Lady had given Elise strict instructions on each of the four undead as well as their histories. Back when they were alive, two of them had belonged to Noxus, one to the Blessed Isles and the other to an infamous kingdom etched in the memories of all.

"Speak." Mordekaiser commanded and one of his liches hissed in anguish at the wait.

"I have come under the sail of the Noxian High Command and of The Black Rose. They wish for your aid on the battlefield," Elise was aware of how alone and vulnerable she was without her kin around her.

"Noxus?" Mordekaiser sounded like he had chuckled.

"In battle you will have the opportunity to take many lives and souls from our enemies. More than even the Black Mist would take. More than you would have on your Harrowing," she paused to see pleased reactions from Thresh and Hecarim as they both shifted their grips on their weapons. Karthus' expression was unreadable. "Each of you have vast legions on undead at your command and after you help Noxus you will have thousands more souls who bow to you."

"Why would we help Noxus become the most powerful nation in Valoran when that is our goal?" Karthus' song drifted on the wind before sharply piercing Elise's ears.

Hecarim, who only cared about bloodlust, was thankful for the political intelligence of Karthus. "He is correct. Death is everywhere. You do not own death. We can kill whenever you want."

Elise eyed Mordekaiser once more and knew it was time for the trump card, "The Black Rose has many dark mages who have unspeakable power. Some say they even have the power to banish the undead. You would not want that. Especially given how much trouble that Yorick has been to you. And that is only a single mortal man. The Black Rose has also offered to give you ownership of the Immortal Bastion and allow you to take your rightful place as a Noxian military general."

Mordekaiser tightened his grip on his deadly mace and summoned one of his liches to him, "Prepare. We go to war."

Thousands of cold screeches filled the air, followed by the cheering of Hecarim and the spectral host of the Iron Order who rode with him. Their noises were joined by the squeals of spiders rising from the depths of the lair. And, finally, were completed by the almighty and unforgettable roar of the Spider God as he took his first step out of his lair. Vilemaw had risen.

* * *

In an unknown room, a group of mages who bore an ancient crest gathered hushed as their leader strode forwards into the circle. She quickly ran through the formalities that burdened her as Matron of the organisation so they could proceed with the real meeting.

"It pleases me to see that the Piltover mission was a success." A voice said.

The Matron nodded slightly, "Yes yes the High Command is pleased yet I feel I was forced to go was in order to stop me from tampering with the preparations for our darling Elise. Fortunately, I was able to tell her what she needed to know. The inhabitants of those Isles will now be sailing to Noxus."

"What of our control over them?" Another asked.

"If it comes to that their allegiance lies with us," she stated confidently, "But I would prefer if we did not have to kill another Grand General."

The young man next to her tutted in annoyance, the same way a child who had just been pulled away from burning ants alive with a magnifying glass would do.

"Vladimir, speak."

"How many more of our members must we see take control of our government only for them to abandon the ways of the organisation."

"I would hope Swain's recent lapse in judgement is solely due to his war plan." A voice called.

"Maybe if he attended meetings I would believe that," Vladimir coolly said, "Evaine, we have to face facts: we are no longer in control of Noxus."

Matron LeBlanc considered this for a moment before responding, "Your concerns are valid. This is why we have the Shadow Isles as a precaution. I would prefer to find out conflict is inevitable before we enter this game with the Master Tactician. Politics is all about moves and counter-moves. A few right moves and our places within Noxian High Command will be ensured. Yet one wrong move and I'm afraid, my dear Vladimir, you may find yourself becoming crow food."

Elsewhere, a bird cawed.


	3. Operation Bilgewater

It was way too early.

The last Harrowing had been just a few months ago and was one of the worst. The ghost and ghouls of the Isles should, even for them, have had more than their fill of blood-lust and suffering. Miss Fortune stood on the balcony of the tavern her crew frequented, knuckles turning white from gripping the splintering wood on the balcony as she gazed at the black mist tumbling across the sea. The shrieks were distant but soon they would be upon them and would be wrecking havoc across the city she had only just begun to lead. She and her small crew disrupted her main competitors after they saved many souls in the Harrowing and in the past months her fleet had vastly increased in members. Miss Fortune was practically leading her own private navy and the other prominent captains would not dare touch her at this point as in such a short time her followers rivaled even that of Gangplank's at his prime. This time they followed out of love rather than fear, however.

Just as the red-head was about to whistle to her first mate she noticed that the mist was passing. They weren't coming for Bilgewater. The Harrowing would be happening elsewhere.

"Oi lads. Over here," she called to the inner circle of crew members playing cards behind her. Ivan, her most trusted member, was the first to rise up and join her on the balcony.

"Shadow Isles? Again?" He spoke gruffly through gritted teeth.

"Nah they're... passin'," muttered Ang, one of the ship captains for Miss Fortune's fleet.

"Where're they going?"

"That's exactly the question we need to be asking," Miss Fortune narrowed her eyes, "I want fully armed patrols continuously circling the waters near our docks and I want scouts periodically being sent around the islands in the region. Nothing goes on in these waters without my knowing. I also wanna lead a ship into Zaun. The harbors there will be the next to see the mist and we might be able to get information. Whilst we're there I want Ivan to meet with our hextech supplier, get some items for cheap and bring them back here to sell at a profit. When I return I want us to start work on some new ships."

Ivan and the others were nodding along, "What type of ships are we buildin', Miss?"

"Warships. I want to be prepared for whatever the fuck the Shadow Isles are planning. Also, Ang, I want you to increase your efforts in recruiting more members to the crew. Avoid trying to poach members of the other pirate crews. I don't want our competitors getting wind that we're building up even more. Try and get foreigners or runaways. I'd prefer some Freiljords. They know how to fight."

* * *

Sivir hated sand. Her yellowing scarf wrapped tightly around her face barely stopped the wind from flicking sand into her mouth and eyes as she stood atop a sand dune looking off into the horizon. The caravan of peasants she had been guiding for the past few days were not faring much better as those who could walk hunched over whilst they fought against the wind which signaled an oncoming sand storm. Just a few more hours and they'd be at the outskirts of Kalamander, a city close to the border Shurima shared with Noxus. Sivir was planning on coming here anyway to make sure the city was still safe so she was not necessarily going much out of her way to bodyguard the caravan.

Sivir had hoped that one day she might be given one of the northern cities, perhaps even Kalamander itself, to govern. She'd prefer a place near the border to house refugees from Noxus' reign of terror, or perhaps a city with a port looking out towards Demacia so she could set up trade routes. Anywhere that was far enough away from the Capital. Riches and fame were not really a priority for Sivir anymore as her heritage allowed her more than enough of that. She wanted to use her abilities to help the people of Shurima now. Her people.

The first cobbled walls encircling Katamander's gem mines came into view as did the first of the Sand Soldiers in their golden armor. They seemed to spring to life at the sight of visitors and marched towards them, inspecting the group. After noticing Sivir the soldiers let them past and she marveled at how frighteningly powerful Azir was. It was possible that there was nobody else in Runeterra who could continuously and single-handedly protect a territory as large as Shurima.

'Maybe not continuously,' she thought after taking her leave of the caravan to patrol the Noxian border, 'I do need to start finding fighters and not just poor women and children. I'll ask Nasus about it, he seems to know a lot about the military and training techniques of old.' Her patrol brought her just below the sequence of mountains which littered the north of Noxus and in the far distance, just through the beginning of the sand storm, she could see a figure stumbling through the sand. Blood danced across the golden surface as it fell from the person's body like rose petals.

As Sivir got closer to the body she realized that perhaps there was one other person in Runeterra with as much raw power as the old hawk. Perhaps there was somebody who could constantly protect the whole of Runeterra by themselves. This person was writhing in the sand in front of her now, his blue eyes wild with anger and anguish, his blue hands clutching for a scroll which was not there and his blue head turning ever more red and ever more golden with every desperate thrash.

Ryze was dead, and somebody made sure that Sivir saw it.


	4. Operation Clan Ferros

The jail cell was illuminated by the only set of eyes in there. They were red. Not bloodshot red but actual gleaming red eyes that followed Jayce as he paced the cell. With every struggle from Warwick the chains he was being held in whirred ever so tighter. A special gift from Heimerdinger in order to help with the interrogation. The yordle scientists had still not told anyone exactly what was stolen from his laboratory but was just as eager as everyone else to track them down, even going as far as to assist Caitlyn in collecting any DNA samples he could find. But they were not idiots. It was obvious that Zaun was all over this. They just needed proof. It wouldn't be right to cause a war between the two cities based only on a hunch, especially when Piltover had been going through such a peaceful time of it as of late.

Jayce delivered another blow to the upper body of Warwick, both his fur and Jayce's fist splattered with each other's blood. Caitlyn and Heimerdinger had been sure to not let it slip to the Piltovans what he was doing under the police station, it would after all ruin the public's perception of him as their heroic defender.

Finally Warwick let out a low snarl. The mercenary had not seemed to have weakened in the past few days since he was captured. More terrifyingly it seemed more like he was just getting more bored. The red eyes never flinched, they just grew with intensity with each punch.

"Are you finally ready to talk? I've dealt with more powerful men than you and trust me when I say I could do this all day", Jayce tilted his head closer to Warwick's slick black snout.

The werewolf simply chuckled, deep and loudly. The sound sent a chill up Jayce's spine. He took one last look at the chained man and hurried out of the cell, making his way up the stairs and into the main office. It was empty today. Caitlyn was either off doing patrols along the borders or sitting anxiously besides Vi's bed. Just as Jayce was to settle into one of the many empty chairs a single purposeful knock on the office door disrupted him. The bustle of the city hit him like a wave when he opened the door and he was reminded of the many reasons why he loved the city. Academics and their bright young apprentices practically floated around the streets in fanciful white or red robes. The light mist that hung over the white marble and hextech city never had chance to settle from the constant various devices that flew around and the light whirring sounds mixed in perfectly with the birds cawing from above. In that moment it was easy to think that just a few hundred meters below them lay the disgusting underbelly of Zaun. Yet Jayce's current problem stood bold upright in front of him. The cropped white hair of Clan Ferros' Priniple Intelligencer stood out against her blue robes which clearly had her Clan's crest tailored onto it.

"Camille", he feigned a smile, "To what does the Piltover City Police deserve this visit?"

"Ah Jayce, of Clan Giopara, how _surprising_ it is to find you here", her cool and almost robotic voice was almost as terrifying as the wolf in the basement, "May I enter the premises?"

He stepped back and allowed her in. Jayce settled back into the seat he was in prior while Camille stood towering over him, hands clasped behind her back. The gentle machinery in her legs was almost soothing to Jayce if it wasn't for two bright blue eyes baring into him. It was no secret to anyone that two of the city's ruling clans - Ferros and Giopara - had some... issues with each other. Jayce always suspected that Ferros had a much darker history than they were letting on and even in the present day he always believed they had some economic ties to Zaun. It was also no secret that Camille had herself the support of Clan Arvino too. So, what was the main face of two of the ruling clans as well as one of the most powerful fighters in the region doing turning up at the police station?

"I'm afraid our sheriff isn't here at the mo-"

"I know. I am here for you", she mused.

"Ah so what can I help you with? It must be a rather important issues that you had to speak with me privately about."

She smiled humorlessly, "The recent attack has the other clans in a slight... _worry_. Now you seem very close to this investigation."

"Vi... ahem... The officer that was injured is someone I have worked closely with in the past. I see it as a duty to help anyway I can."

She held up a hand as an order to silence him, "It is unimportant to me. I am simply ensuring that you know any information you have must be relayed to the other clans so we can deal with this issue as a group. _You_ are not the city's ruler. I am here to remind you of this. Do not be fooled. Simply because the public support you does not mean the clans do."

Jayce attempted a nod of his stiffened neck and called out to Camille as she began to walk towards the door, clearly done with her thinly veiled threat, "I promise I will bring anything new I find to the clan's attention but currently I don't know anything more than the rest of you do."

She paused at the door and smiled that chilling smile once more, "Jayce. Next time you lie to me it would be wise to clean up first. Your _hands_ speak the truth." And with that she was out the door.

Jayce's heart pounded against his chest as he looked down at the bloody fists he had forgotten to scrub clean. What if he was right about Camille and she did have connections to Zaun? If that was true both she and Zaun would know he was torturing Warwick in the basement. Shit.

The Gray Lady zoomed across Piltover's streets, silently swooping and rising through the mist as she made her way to her family home where there would be a fresh cup of tea waiting on the living room table now that she was done with her to-do list for the day. Genna, her grand-niece and master of the Ferros clan would be waiting for her for updates from the past few days of her espionage on the armchair parallel to the table where her tea would be cooling. That girl was both exceedingly strong minded and an absolute sweetheart to Camille which was the exact reason Camille chose her to lead the clan. And yes, Camille chose her. It was much more Camille's style to be in the shadows of the city's operations and it was obvious that the higher-ups in the city preferred to deal with a polite girl like Genna rather than a cold-hearted half-machine. Clan Ferros had Genna as the face and Camille as the mind, and the legs.

The door to the family home automatically swung open at the sight of Camille dropping down in front of it and a young voice called from the living room. Camille smiled contently at the sight of her grand-niece.

"A good day?"

"It was a productive day, my dear", Camille smiled lovingly.

"Will you be staying for supper tonight or do you have... other tasks", the girl smiled over the rim of her teacup.

"I may be visiting some of our friends down below tonight."

"Are there any issues, auntie?"

"Nothing at all. We just need to ensure we have options on both sides here. Make sure our friends in Piltover trust us and I will continue our connections with our less than savory acquaintances", Camille allowed herself to sit back in her chair for the first time in days and slowly sip at the tea.

"And, when the time comes?"

"When the time comes, we will pick the winning side. Our family has no need to gamble."

As the two women drank their teas and planned their future, Piltover carried on ticking in the background. The ticking and whirring never stopped. Always unflinching; always unsuspecting.


	5. Operation Avarosan

"It is our duty to speak of unity, here among the ruins of our past. Now our people stand divided, torn apart by ancient hatreds. Brothers and sisters, our enemy is not our neighbor. Our enemy is a land without law and a long winter's night. It is hunger, poverty, desperation and chaos. Look around you, these monuments from a bygone age, each older and grander than anything wrought by our hands. These are the works of a united Freljord, a fractured land that we can repair. From these ruins, we can raise a great nation. We are the people of the Freljord, and this land belongs to us all", Ashe's voice rang loud against the frozen walls and monuments that surrounded the icy platform she was stood upon. Her people cheered at the climax of her speech and she gazed at the tribes which had pledged themselves to her cause. These were good people. If they weren't then she would not have allowed them into the Avarosan. Proud of the rallying cry she had given, the young woman headed down the platform and into her the tent which housed her war council. The tribe leaders and her trusted friends gathered around a heavy stone table which was bordered with brilliant white snow and painted stone figurines which represented her loyal tribes and her enemies. The group smiled and clapped joyously as she entered.

One of Ashe's fondest friends, Gragas, pounded her on the back with a little too much force and shouted close to her face, "A feckin' great speech m'lady. Really got the crowd ready for action."

She smiled fondly and inconspicuously wiped the droplets of wine which were accidentally spat onto her face as Tryndamere moved to embrace her next. His warm arms wrapped around her and he muttered congratulations into her ear. She smiled and moved to the head of the table, nodding at other friends and tribal leaders. They were all present, as they should be for possibly the most important movement they had ever planned. Tryndamere and the other barbarian tribe leaders were gathered to her direct left. The barbarians who were loyal to her oathbound - Tryndamere - and therefore her, took up a large and exceedingly important part of the Avarosan army. Gragas was next to them and while he wasn't a leader of the sort, he was a great friend and ally to have in the room with her. Braum stood, hands crossed and smile wide, to her right. Having the hero of the Freljord pledge his allegiance to her cause had swayed many of the lesser tribes to join with him and she was ever thankful of his undying faith, and warm heart, on her side of the fight. Finally stood the Cryophoenix herself at the opposite end of the table. Anivia had brought a lot of the Northern tribes with her when she pledged for Ashe, the Notai tribe being a major part of Ashe's army. Those tribes were used to the much harsher conditions in the far north and were known throughout Runeterra as the fiercest of fighters whose only beacon of hope was Anivia, the demi-god spirit herself.

"My friends", she started warmly, "Thank you again for being here, my Bloodsworn: Tryndamere the Barbarian King, Gragas the Rabble Rouser, Braum the Heart of Freljord and Anivia the Cryophoenix. We have it on good intelligence of a Winter's Claw camp just a few days march north of here and Anivia's bird scouts have spotted that Sejuani herself is present there. If this is true we can presume that most of her army is there too, possibly going back to their main encampment after a raid or recruitment mission on one of the lesser tribes which roam these lands. So, provided we act quickly and with the power of our full army at our backs, we can completely wipe out one of our two enemies in Freljord."

"Drive the buggers out", Gragas exclaimed.

"Braum will lead the charge!" Exclaimed the man to her right.

Ashe and the others chuckled, "I want half of the Barbarians leading the charge into the camp. Do as much damage as possible before they can be prepared and retaliate. Then, once they do, return to the rest of us and we will all charge as a group, under Anvivia's blizzard. Anivia, how long can you keep the blizzard going for?"

"As long as you require", Anivia chimed, "If my body is kept safe away from the main fight, I can keep it going until sunrise."

"Good. Braum, you and the Notai tribe will hang back from the fight and protect Anivia in case some of the escaping Winter's Claw finds her while she focuses on aiding the rest of us."

"And what about me lassie?" Gragas shouted.

"You, my dear friend, will do exactly what you always do."

"Drink and headbutt the feckers?"

"Hell yes."

The others cheered and Gragas poured everyone a glass of his special brew before they went to prepare the army for the march ahead.

The march was done and now Tryndamere hugged low against the soft snow, his Barbarian army scattered around him as they edged closer to the dwindling campfires of the Winter's Claw camp. A few scouts where spotted here and there along the way but Ashe's archer scouts had made very quick work of them. All that was left were the few scouts present at the camp and the rest of the slumbering army. There would be no rallying cry from the barbarians tonight. Nothing that could wake the rest of the army up before they had torn through half of the camp. After that would come Anivia's blizzard and the head of Sejuani being marched back to their home on a spear.

They were close enough now that Tryndamere could smell what they tents surrounding one of the bonfires had for supper that night. This was it. Time to fight. He held up a single hand which held his Greatsword and jumped into the air, the rest of the hundreds of barbarians following suit. His feet trampled the smoldering ashes of the bonfire as some of the others stayed to hack at the screaming bodies entrapped in the collapsed tents. White turned to red as a single swing from Tryndamere hacked the body of a fumbling tribesman in half, his upper body still twitching in the snow as the barbarian king moved to his next victim. But, before the army could get even a quarter of the way through camp, ice exploded all around him. It wasn't anything to do with Anivia, however. This wasn't beautiful and deadly like her blizzard. This was a savage cold that gnawed its way into his muscles, making his movements slower and slower. The arm that gripped his Greatsword turned blue and began to grow icicles on the underside. The snow that was once soft seemed to become part of his legs, begging them to melt away and become part of the snow. The cold seemed to demand that he stay in one place for he feared that even a single movement would shatter his entire body.

One of his tribe leaders in front of him had managed to let out a scream and just through the ice Tryndamere could just make out an entire fleet of white bears, each one about the size of three men, charging towards his people. Sejuani was definitely there it's just they had no idea Volibear and his Ursine warriors had also joined her. And they were awake. They were waiting. He had to tell Ashe, or they were all going to die.


	6. Operation Freljord

Thunder roared overhead, occasionally scorching the snow and lighting up the increasingly dark and blue Winter's Claw camp. Ashe and the rest of her army barreled down the slope towards the camp as soon as they had seen the storm clouds brewing ahead. Anivia knew exactly what sort of monster could bring down such immense power. It had to be her brother, Volibear. Anivia soared over the battle as she saw Ashe and Gragas leading the charge, with the young girl looking like a fierce leader as she screamed at her troops atop a giant snow ram, bow raised at the sky in defiance to the gods.

Gragas was the first to meet the Ursine fleet as he charged into the first one he saw, wrestling it to the ground with sheer brute strength. The bear creature's claws tried to grasp at him but he held it down against the snow and pummeled it into submission until it struggled no more. Next to this were the initial attacking fleet of barbarians, frozen in place as a tall iceborn warmother swung her bola and charged her mount into the living statues of Tryndamere's men. Anivia and Ashe spotted Tryndamere himself in the middle of this. Frozen in place like the rest of them, he could do nothing but watch as the oncoming army tore through his men, slowly making themselves to him. The cryophoenix swooped down and summoned a wall of ice to block the frozen barbarian army from Sejuani's. It would buy them a little time. Anivia's ice was thick and laced with her magic, yet Sejuani's true ice weaponry would soon be able to find its way through there and they still had Volibear's army on the other side to worry about. It took almost a whole family of tribesmen to bring down a single ursine warrior, and nobody was able to stand in the way of Volibear himself. The wall had bought them time, but they would soon be surrounded.

Ashe swung herself off her ram as she reached Tryndamere and yelled at her archers to fire volleys over the top of the wall. The remaining barbarians would thaw out and be back in action again by the time the wall was broken down, Anivia was sure of it. She had to be sure of it. A small hole was chipped into the middle of the wall but she quickly fired a shard of ice into the hole, sealing it up and piercing the skull of whoever had made it. Behind her she could still hear Gragas wrestling with the bear warriors and she screeched at the archers closest to her to help with the fight going on behind them.

"Anivia!" Ashe called over the sounds of screaming as she fired volley after volley over the wall, "Can you do something about Sejuani's attack?"

"It's true ice magic. Very powerful, we'll just have to wait," as she said that a bolt of lightning hit an archer just next to Ashe herself. Anivia pounded her wings and took flight.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to deal with my brother", Anivia called behind her. The plan was a mess now. They had to clear the ursine warriors from behind them and retreat as quickly as possible, before any more died. Finally beating Volibear was their only way. He had seen her coming, though. As she began to fire an attack which would freeze the bear spirit in place, he dropped down onto all fours and charged in her direction, destroying the soft bodies of the tribesmen as he went. Braum hopped in front of the bear, hitting him square in the face with his heavy shield. It barely slowed Volibear down but had given Anivia enough time to fully charge up her attack. A ball of her ice magic flew towards the bear but he simply jumped into the sky, the power alone knocking over the humans around him. Static buzzed in his paws as he rose higher in the sky, as if the air itself was carrying him towards her. She shot an icicle into his knee but rather than slow his ascent, the anger it caused just made him rise even quicker. Almost inevitably his paws clasped around her feet, the touch of the thunder completely robbed her of any ability to fight back. In midair Volibear flipped and smashed her against the ground.

Anivia almost didn't have enough time to turn herself into her egg before her body shattered against the ground.

Braum saw it. He saw it all. The man had tried to help but his best effort had made hardly a dent in the demi-god's armor. The bear landed awkwardly on the ground, ice still lodged in his knee and head still slightly dazed from the impact into Braum's shield. Volibear scooped up Anivia's egg and held it like a trophy above his head. Now that she was in her rebirth form, the wall had started to melt away and lose it's effect. They had to leave. This was bad.

"Gragas!" He called to the closest other bloodsworn to him, "We have to go back."

Gragas was grunting with effort, the continued deep scratches were rapidly ridding him of vital blood, "Do it, man. For godsake."

Braum lifted his shield and called to the tribes around him to fall back to him. As they did he slammed it against the cold floor and tore the earth apart. Fissures erupted between the two armies and launched a few ursines into the air which was still crackling with electricity. This was their chance, they ran.

He shouted to Ashe and barbarians who had just thawed out and they also followed suit with wild looks in their eyes. Tryndamere himself was shaking from fear and that intense cold. Ashe was instead shaken from the weight of what had just happened. She had led her people to a slaughter.

As they reached the top of the slope, Braum heard the roar of Sejuani's mount as the wall shattered in two. They wouldn't chase them. Volibear had Anivia and that was enough for Winter's Claw. For now.

* * *

Elise could not stop herself from twitching with nervous excitement. Having the black mist at her back as she arrived back to her home had filled her mind with worries about how the average Noxian would react towards her. They already thought of her as a monster and now it would be even worst. But the streets were laced with adoring crowds cheering and ooing at her as she and the Shadow Isle inhabitants marched through the streets of the Noxian capital. They were clearing expecting this to happen which meant Swain and Darius had announced it already and had taken credit for everything. The whole thing was orchestrated by the Black Rose, however.

Elise didn't care though. Maybe this would finally give her the stature she deserved in Noxus. She had, after all been summoned to the Throne Room as soon as she stepped foot on solid Noxian territory.

She had never stepped foot into the throne room before. She expected it to be fancier and to be abuzz with guards and advisers all chattering about upcoming war plans. Now, however, it was deadly silent. One man sat in the middle throne at the far end of the room.

"Ah Elise, how pleasant it is to see you", cooed Swain as he almost nonchalantly traced his fingers over the arm of the throne, "I hope you enjoyed the reception I had planned for you."

So she was right, he had taken credit for it all, "Thank you, Grand General."

"Oh no, Elise dear. You know better than that. We've done a lot together back in the past, you don't have to start calling me that just because I'm sat here and you're stood there. You know I'm still the same Swain as always."

"Of course, Gr- Swain", she knew what he was doing. The Black Rose didn't trust him anymore and he knew it. He wanted to get back in their good books.

"Being the head of Noxus' Trifarix is very demanding work, as I am sure you _all_ understand", his voice grew harsher, "Yet I still expected to be kept up to date on any meetings that take place. You understand correct?"

"I think I do."

"Well", he rose to stand and the birds that were once settled around him began to screech and grew restless, "Let me be very _very_ clear. I am not somebody who the Black Rose can just destroy and replace like all the others. You forget I was a part of those plans. I executed many people under the orders of our _darling_ matron. I know who put me in this position and I am more than happy to listen to any plans our organisation have for the future. But I am no puppet. I will be informed of every discussion _our_ Black Rose has. You do not work in the shadows of the government any longer, my darling Elise. You work with the government. You work _for me._ Am I clear?"

It was not a question that needed answering. Suddenly Swain no longer looked like the old man he used to. He continued in a softer voice, "The Black Rose works _for_ Noxus. _I_ speak for Noxus. _I am Noxus._ The Black Rose works for _me._ Now, kindly run off and tell the darling LeBlanc all about this discussion", he started to move back to the throne and gently petted one of his raven's on the head, "Be sure to tell her every word. I'll know about it. I have little birdies _everywhere."_

* * *

 **A/N: Reviews are better than sex. I'm really loving this story now and it is going exactly in the direction I want it to. They'll be a lot more Noxus, Demacia and Ionia POV chapters coming very soon, also Azir's reaction to Ryze's death! Let me know who you reckon might be the next to die.**


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